I made myself a sandwich just now, but before I could eat it Timothy needed to go down for a nap. I carefully hid the sandwich from Moses, who would have certainly devoured it before I got back, and now I can't find it! I've looked everywhere! If I weren't relatively alone in the house (there are cats and Timothy here) I would assume Chris was playing a prank on me. At this point, I would be happy to find an empty plate as proof that a cat ate my sandwich. It would prove I'm not going insane. It would prove that I did indeed make the sandwich in the first place.
It should be noted that while I was typing this, Moses found my can of spicy V8, knocked it over and drank it. It's looking a lot like one of those days from where I stand.